


For Real

by allthecoloursin1



Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, First Love, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Love/Hate, Teen Angst, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23911858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthecoloursin1/pseuds/allthecoloursin1
Summary: The night JJ bawled his eyes out in Kiara's arms and told her the truth about his dad, she knew she couldn't leave him.She knew she didn't want to leave him.
Relationships: JJ & Kiara (Outer Banks), JJ/Kiara (Outer Banks)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 180





	1. Please Don't Kiss Me

The salted air burned Kiara's throat as JJ hugged her tight, tighter than ever before, and for a second she could not tell whether the water drops soaking her top and arms came from the hot tub or from the tide of tears coming full force from JJ's blue eyes. 

She had only seen him cry once before that, when all the Pogues were a group of young kids and JJ's mom, not so surprisingly, decided to flee one Luke Maybank and so JJ, not for the first and also not for the last time in his life, was left behind. It took him a couple of weeks and the sight of her empty wardrobe to comprehend that she was actually, truly gone, and so he cried. He cried in his best friend, John B's arms, for what seemed like ages before Big John took over and whispered softly in JJ's ear that he would be all right.

—I can't take him anymore — JJ's voice broke, and so did Kie's heart.

She cursed herself for not knowing. She thought of every busted lip, every purple eye, every cut on his cheek — all of the bruises she had simply assumed came from Kooks or Tourons or from play fights with the other boys. JJ was always good at hiding things, from objects he stole and mistakes he made to, apparently, what happened behind closed doors when his father was drunk and angry. But he wasn't hiding anymore, and Kie hoped he found at least a bit of comfort in her head resting softly in the crook of his neck and in her hands drawing circles on his back. 

— I was gonna kill him — he weeped, and Kiara found herself crying alongside him.

She was protective of her boys. _Pogue mom_ , she had been called more than once, though it was no secret that her sense of responsibility had always been stronger when it came to JJ — he was the impulsive one, the reckless, always on edge, always ready to start a fight. But he was also just JJ, the boy who would do everything for his friends, the boy who would snap his beloved rooster's neck to keep the group safe, who would shoot a gun in front of a bunch of Kooks to get JB out of a fight and take the fault for Pope so he didn't stain his spotless record. 

If he did all of that and more, how could they have been so engaged in their own lives that they didn't notice how JJ never invited them into his house? How he slept at JB's at least six days of the week? How there was a flicker in his eyes and a shiver down his spine whenever someone mentioned his dad? 

Kie felt like she could kill him. If she saw Luke Maybank, she would punch him in the throat until his head left the rest of his body. She wanted to yell at him, and kick him, and make him go to jail for what he did to his own son... but not tonight. In that moment, as JJ weeped in her arms and Pope joined them in a group hug, all she truly wanted and needed to do was hold him for as long as possible.

And so she did. Even after they got out of the hut tub, she still had her arms around him, as they seemed to be the only thing keeping him from falling. Even after Pope left because of his curfew, she still had her hands in his, keeping them from shaking too hard. 

— I'll try to return the hot tub tomorrow, get the money back — he said first thing after his crying ceased, his upper body resting on JB's kitchen counter.

— Don't worry about that right now — Kiara said, her throat still lumpy from the pain of seeing the purple bruises on JJ's stomach.

She had her body turned back to him, focusing way too much on the mug filled with hot water in front of her. She always had at least a few tea bags hidden in JB's cupboards, and even though JJ made fun of it, she knew he liked chamomile with two sugars — not more than he enjoyed a nice, cold beer, but he had had more than enough alcohol already. 

Kiara finally turned around, doing her best to look like her typical self, and placed the hot drink in front of JJ's bruised hands. The thought of him fighting back somehow calmed her beating heart, if only for a moment, before he asked with pleading eyes:

— Please don't look at me like that — with the mug in his hands, he took a small sip, warmth coursing down his sore throat. 

— Like what?

— Like I'm a lost puppy — he placed the mug back on the counter with a little too much strenght, and a few drops of the golden drink flew up in the air. — Like you pity me or some shit, I don't need that. 

Kiara took a step back, crossing her arms against her chest. Maybe she did feel sorry for him, but instead of admitting anything that could further upset JJ, she just straightened her posture and pursed her lips before saying:

— I don't pity you, JJ — he scoffed at her comment, so she continued. — I pity your dad, and you know why?

He stared straight into her brown eyes, his hands shaking around the mug anxiously. The sudden fragility of his body made her want to get closer, and she stood up right next to the chair he had been sitting on. She looked down at him as he patiently waited for whatever it was she had to say.

— Because he'll never have the privilege that is knowing you, JJ.

— He does know me, he's my dad. And he hates me anyway.

She kneeled down by his legs and took his hands into hers. His skin was rough and his knuckles were at least twice the size they should be.

— I mean actually, _truly_ knowing you, J. He doesn't know you like I do. — she said, but was quick to add after his blue eyes spent a second too long staring down at her lips. — Like John B and Pope know you. If your dad did know you like we do, he would never, _ever_ , treat you the way he does. 

— And why is that?

— It's impossible not to love the real you, J.

His lips trembled as if his body wanted to force him to let another wave of tears escape. But he didn't allow so — _typical JJ_ , Kie thought —, and he only smiled softly at her before getting his attention back to the warm mug in his hands. His swollen knuckles welcomed the heat and his stomach filled with a little too much booze was calmed down by the drink, sip by sip until there was nothing left. He and Kie stayed like this, silently, for a few long minutes, both comforted enough by each other's close and quiet presence. 

Kiara also wanted to make sure JJ got a good night of sleep. The next day he would most definitely wake up with a killer hangover, more than a few badly sore body parts and a huge, expensive hot tub to try and get rid of, and that is not even considering everything going on with John B and the gold. It would be a long day for JJ, so she took matters into her own hands. 

— Where are you going? — he asked softly when she dared to move, placing his hand on her wrist.

He also seemed scared, and he was — he was scared of being alone in the house as rain started to fall from the night sky, scared of what he would dream about if he even managed to fall asleep, scared of what he would wake up to. Mostly, he was scared Kie would leave.

JJ only softened his grip on the brown haired girl when she assured him she only wanted to help him make the bed. When was the last time he did that? Even though he had spent long days and nights at JB's ever since he was a young boy — on the couch when Big John was still around, and then in Big John's room after he vanished and JB told him it was fine —, he was surely not the most organised guy in The Cut. The room was a mess, and Kie took her time to make it as liveable and comfortable as she possibly could — she changed the sheets, kicked all and everything dirty into the laundry basket, collected all the pillows and quilts she could find around the house and placed a big glass of water in the nightstand. JJ watched it all, mesmerized. He had not seen someone make his bed since he was five, the day before his mom left. 

— Will you be ok? — she asked, thinking it was about time she got home before her parents started to worry. 

— Yeah — he said, sitting down on the freshly cleaned bed. — I'm all right, always.

He was lying, and Kie could tell so from the way his lips twitched. She thought of the bottle of vodka he would probably raid from JB's secret stash right after she left, and of the slim yet existent possibility that he might go back home to his father. 

— Rain is getting worse — she said. — Maybe I could wait it out, until weather clears out, you know?

It wasn't getting worse at all. In fact, it was barely drizzling, but JJ didn't seem to notice, or to even bother looking out the window. 

— Yeah, maybe — he tried speaking nonchalantly, but the sudden spark in his blue eyes couldn't lie. 

He flinched when he removed his grey tank tank top. Staring once again at the black and purple spots all over his abdomen made Kiara want to throw up — it wasn't the first time seeing JJ hurt made her sick to her stomach, but knowing the maker of his pain and soreness wasn't just some random Kook but, his father, his own flesh and blood, made matters so much worse. Yet, she refused to quail or whimper, or even blink, because that was not what JJ needed then, and in that moment, she was sure she could give whatever he needed for the rest of his life.

She always had a soft spot for JJ, though it didn't look like it most of the time. When she first began hanging out with the Pogues, John B — or was it Pope? — made fun of one comment Kie had made about JJ's hair. She did love JJ's hair, but made sure she kept it to herself after that. Maintaining a group of friends is harder than it looks, especially the older you get, and Kiara had put it upon herself to guarantee her friends would always stay friends, even if that meant she had to be a little snarkier at JJ than she naturally would. She put JJ in a Pogue box and acted as if him and John B and Pope all meant the exact same to her **—** and perhaps she did love them in the same amount, but she did not love them in the same way. 

— Do you mind if I stay here with you for a minute or two? — she asked with pleading big, brown eyes.

_I would beg you to stay if you hadn't offered_ , JJ thought, but sticked to only nodding his head no. He had figured maybe she'd take a nap in the living room or grab a chair and sit close to the door, but instead, she walked straight towards him and laid down by his side on the bed, her arms and shoulders still wet from the hot tub. When she hugged him earlier that night his nose had been stuffy from all the crying, but now he could finally notice the calming scent of peppermint that constantly seemed to wander off her brown hair. He loved it, just as much as she loved the way JJ always somehow smelled of salty water and sand.

He stared up at the ceiling, but could feel the girl's eyes wandering through his face, and his neck, and his stomach. At some point her hand decided to travel through him as well, and she placed her soft palm on top of one of the fresh wounds JJ's father had burdened him with. 

JJ instinctively almost removed her hand, but stopped himself before doing so. She already knew, didn't she? He had just spent the last hour or two weeping in her arms, telling her through sobs all of the pain he had quietly been through for so many years. And if she knew it all, and she still wanted to touch him, why wouldn't he let her?

— Does it hurt to touch it? — she asked stopping her hand in the air, afraid that the circling movement she had started on his abdomen could be painful to the boy.

Finally withdrawing his eyes from the cream coloured ceiling, he turned his body to the side so that he could stare right into her brown eyes when he said:

— Not when it's you.

She could feel his breathing on her face from how close they both stood — the chamomile and the beer and the vodka all mixed up into a somehow calming heat. She wanted more of it, so she got closer, so close that their foreheads were touching when she reached out for him once more, this time her hand going to his cheek. It was bruised as well, redness forming all over the swollen spot, and Kiara could feel her eyes burning and more tears beginning to form.

— Please don't cry over me, Kie — he pleaded, placing his hand on top of hers, which put some more pressure on his bruised cheek and made him flinch. 

— I can't — she said, allowing more tears to form and fall down her face. — Not when you're hurt.

— It's nothing that hasn't happened before — he tried comforting her, only managing to make the hole in her heart grow bigger. — I'll recover just fine, ok? I always do.

She murmurs a soft _ok_ , but the ache and the anguish going through her whole being only seem to be soothed by his skin on her skin — first his one free hand, the one that wasn't on top of hers, traveled to her face, wiping clean a wave of tears. She once again pulled him closer, more than she ever thought possible, until their faces were connected and their tears mixed together. Then her long legs intertwined with his, and his arm went around her back, and she had a hard time telling where she ended and he began.

— Kie — he muttered, grabbing her attention. — Please don't do this just because you feel sorry for me.

_This_? She was confused for a second before realising his blue eyes were staring down at her lips. And the only thing she could do was stare back at his and know that she did feel sorry for him. She felt sorry for JJ for having to deal with years of abuse, and she felt sorry because even though he should hate his dad, the only thing he wanted was to be loved back by him. And she also knew that was not the reason why she so desperately wanted to kiss him then.

— I won't — she promised before pulling him into her arms and crashing their lips together. 

He took a moment to kiss her back, but when he finally did, he thought _this is it_. This is what people always talk about in songs and poems and films. This is what people die and kill for. This is what can make or break a person.

And she thought the same for the rest of the night. As the summer rain dripped softly and JJ kept asking her:

— _Are you sure_?

She, not even for a second, considered saying anything other than:

— Yes.

She had never fully been with a guy before. Close, yes, but never all the way through, for one reason or the other. Maybe part of her brain always figured it had to be JJ. Today, tomorrow, two months from now or five years from now, it had to be JJ, someway, somehow. She tells him so — the Pogues probably had assumed she slept with a Kook during her off year or with a Touron at a random kegger —, and that only brings him to question her a few more dozen times whether she was sure. 

— JJ, I'm sure — she would confirm every time. — I like you for real.

He stopped his movements for a second to stare down at her, his hand softly stroking her cheek and some strands of brown hair. 

— I like you for real too.

JJ had been with his fair share of girls — mostly Tourons, but also a Kook here and there. Yet, he knew right then and there that he would leave it all behind if Kiara ever asked him to. A loud voice in his head made sure to remind him that it was Kie, and that there was no way Kie would ever want to remember what was about to happen morning came. _But if she did, oh, if she did..._

— Are you going to leave? — he asked, letting his anxiety take over.

She felt his breath in the crook of her neck and his calm, slow movements inside of her when she said in a whisper:

— I'll never leave you.

And that's all he could ever need.


	2. Always About JJ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! Thank you soo much for your response last chapter, it made me so happy! Hope you enjoy chapter 2 just as much.
> 
> But just an FYI: This story will be a slight timeline AU from the show where John B did not actually get on the boat with Ward to go fishing that day because he went to the Chateau to talk to JJ and therefore never found out about him killing his dad (at least, not yet). Hope you guys think that's all right, it's just that it fits the vibe of the story better for now!
> 
> Have a good read xx  
> 

JJ slept a full night for the first time in years. How many years exactly he could not tell, but he knew it was more than a few — for obvious reasons when he was staying at his dad's house, but then when at JB's, he could also be quite restless, though he wasn't too sure why.

Sometimes he'd be asleep for four or five hours before waking up in a jump, his palms sweaty and an unshakeable feeling of uneasiness in his chest, and other times he'd barely reach the three hour mark without having the need to walk around the Chateau and check on everyone to make sure they were safe. More often than not, though, his head wouldn't even hit the pillow, and he'd spend the whole night drinking beer at the sofa, watching the front door.

But not this time.

This time, he opened his blue eyes calmly after a full eight hours, Kiara's arms wrapped around his neck as if she could be dreaming about hugging him — which she was —, her fingers on his hair, just the way she accidentally left them last night after she fell asleep while stroking his blonde locks. One of her long legs was also straddling his body, and he softly placed his hand on her hip, wanting to take it all in — how soft her skin was, how nice her hair smelled, how he could make her get goosebumps all over her body just by caressing her bare back with his fingertips. 

He knew it was Kiara's first time. He had never been a girl's first time before — at least, not as far as he knew —, and he had also never let a girl stay the whole night afterwards, but now, he could feel a knot forming in the pit of his stomach just by thinking this might have been the first and the last time he ever got to wake up with his chin on Kie's head and her hand playing with his hair. If he could press a stop button and only relive one single moment for the rest of eternity, this would be it, and for the first time, maybe ever, he prayed to God and to whatever or whoever mattered in the Universe that when Kiara woke up she wouldn't look at him with regret.

Because he could handle a lot of bad shit happening to him, but he wouldn't be able to handle this. 

Her body shifted as she yawned, and he immediately feared she would leave his embrace. She didn't — in fact, her sudden involuntary movements only pulled them closer together, if that was even possible, and she held him tighter, her head resting on his chest. His heart beat so fast and loud it was nearly enough to wake her up, so he continued to soothe her with his hand traveling softly down her spine, from her neck all the way to her hips, hoping she would at least take a few more minutes to regain consciousness. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her on the lips again and feel her morning breath — he needed more of this, so much more, and not being sure what her first thought would be as she opened her eyes and found herself in his arms made his whole body tremble with anxiety.

He didn't have to worry though, because in that moment, had Kiara been awake, her first thought would have been: _'I could wake up just like this again every day for the rest of my life'._

* * *

John B missed the Chateau, but most importantly, he missed his friends. All of them falling asleep scattered around the house after an entire day of drinking too much beer and smoking too much weed used to be one of his favorite parts of the day, and although finding himself waking up in the same perimeter as one Sarah Cameron wasn't anything but thrilling, the call he received from Pope in the morning had been more than enough to get him worried about one particular Pogue.

He called the Cameron's landline as soon as the morning sun painted the sky, and Sarah, always a light sleeper, was the one to pick up. She walked into John B's room in a hurry, her light brown eyes opened wide enough that John B didn't even say _good morning_ before he grabbed the phone from her hands.

It is important to say that, even though JB knew that Luke Maybank wasn't the best dad in the world — or even came close to it, for that matter —, and he knew he also loved getting too drunk on hard liquor and high on coke to ever pay enough attention to JJ, he did not know the man took a liking to beating up his own son. Had it been Pope or Kie, he would have inquired them about the occasional bruises and cut lips and sore body parts, but not JJ, because getting into fights with Kooks and Tourons was nothing but expected of him. Hell, JB would have found it weird if JJ _didn't_ get a new black eye for more than two weeks. 

As John B put on the first pair of clean shorts and shirt he could find, he wasn't too much sure what he would say to JJ when he saw him. If he knew his best friend well enough, which he did, then it was to be expected he would want to speak of what had apparently taken place the night before — he would shrug, take a sip of beer and say _it was nothing_. Except it was something, and JB couldn't try to ignore it anymore. He would only have to take action in a way that didn't scare JJ off.

Sarah put her blonde hair up in a high bun so that she could drive her boyfriend back to the Chateau. She didn't know exactly what had happened — only having heard Pope grumble through the phone the words _JJ, asshole dad, beaten up and hot tub — ,_ but from the way JB's fist flexed in and out of a fist repeatedly, she could tell it was serious, so even though she was busy driving the new car Ward had just given her was a gift, every once in a while she would reach out and put one of her hands on JB's shoulder.

She thought JJ was an interesting individual, to say the least. Not that they had had all that many interactions since she became sort of an honorary member of the Pogues, but she did admire his strong sense of justice and protection when it came to his friends, and she could also not forget how Kiara used to speak of him back when the two girls used to hang out in Figure 8.

_I know he can be difficult sometimes, but if you get to really meet him, there's no way he won't become your favorite person in the whole entire world._

_If I could only take two people with me to an abandoned island, who would I take? You, Cameron, of course. And then JJ, I guess. Well, not guess. JJ for sure, if he ever forgave me._

_I think JJ is the one I miss the most back from The Cut. But if you ever speak to him, for whatever reason, do not tell him I said that._

Kiara Carrera was not the easiest person to please, and she probably only liked a total of five people, so Sarah figured even though pretty much everyone at the Kook Academy thought JJ was bat shit crazy, there had to be something more to him. 

— I'm sure he's fine, John B — Sarah said as soon as she could see the shape of the Chateau ahead. — I mean, it's JJ.

— Yeah, I know — he responded, but Sarah could sense the uncertainty in his voice.

They saw the hot tub first, of course. Sarah had to bite her tongue to not say anything about it, as JB seemed to wish to ignore it, at least for now. She could hear both their hearts beating fast as they walked through the front door, perhaps expecting to find the Chateau in a state of absolute mess, shattered objects on the ground and empty cans of beer scattered around. They did not find that, though. It wasn't spotless by any means, but it looked just about the same as John B had left it before going to live at the Cameron's, maybe even cleaner than that if you paid enough attention.

Had not been for the red hat on the kitchen counter or the pair of once white All Stars by the front door, the duo would probably not be able to tell JJ was there. Unbeknown to them, though, JJ was currently wrapped up in the arms of a still asleep Kiara, too focused on softly getting strands of her brown hair away from her eyes to hear the first two or three knocks on the closed door of the room that used to belong to Big John.

— JJ, are you in there? — John B's voice echoed, followed by a couple more knocks. — I talked to Pope, he told me what happened.

That was enough to remove JJ from his state of utter trance and he shifted his body under Kie suddenly, just enough motion for Kiara to force herself out of her dream state. For a second there, she wasn't too sure if she was awake yet, her fingers still tied in strands of blonde hair.

John B had been the one to introduce Kiara to JJ when they were kids. He had long-ish hair back then, and she remembers thinking it was the coolest thing ever, just as cool as the shark tooth necklace he always wore around his neck and the way he couldn't quite pronounce her name — _Kiawa_ , he used to say, until finally settling on Kie. He was the first boy to kiss her on the cheek, because he was already a flirt, even as a young boy. He also was the one to teach her how to surf, when they were ten or eleven, and every time she fell on her back or breathed in a bit too much water he would come closer to her and say _hey, don't worry, you're fine, you'll get it right next time_. And unexpectedly, he was the first one of the boys to forgive her and welcome her back into the group after her Kook year, as if he had been so happy to be able to count on her constant presence again that he couldn't bother himself with asking any questions.

That was all that went through Kie's head during that night. She dreamt _The History of Kie and JJ_ , directed by Kiara Carrera herself, and that is probably why the events of the past night didn't hit her at once — they came back slowly and quietly, a flicker of soft touches and whispers, his taste in her mouth, the way his tears mixed with hers and how it felt to have his hands travel through her back, sending goosebumps down her spine. If someone could explode from feeling too many emotions, she would've, right then and there, leaving nothing but burning traits of what she used to be on the walls. 

— Yeah, I'm here, dude — JJ yelled out, avoiding Kie's eyes.

She did her best to not let the sudden lump in her throat show on her face as JJ quickly removed his body from the entangled mess of arms and legs and hands they had built during the last few hours, even when all she wanted to do was kiss him again — not even passionately, just a soft peck would be enough —, to have him play with her hair and say _hey, so, about last night...,_ she still tried to make herself content with only pulling her knees against her chest and watching as JJ walked around the room anxiously, getting his face close to the door when he said:

— I'm fine, all right? You know how Pope can be — JJ was a damn good liar most of the time, but that was not one of those times. — Seriously, weren't you supposed to be fishing with Ward?

— I cancelled — he announced as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, that he would cancel anything and everything if the Pogues needed him. — Dude, just open the door, it's fucking weird talking like this.

John B's plead was the thing that forced JJ to finally make eye contact with Kiara, and he felt as if he could die. Was that regret in her eyes, just as he had feared? He thought she looked so tiny crumpled up against the mountain of pillows she had collected the night before, as if she only wanted to disappear in between them. So, of course, JJ did the only thing he was ever taught how to do — deny, deny, deny.

— You could go out the window if you don't want him to see you — he whispered, getting closer to the bed.

Truth is, had both said what they were thinking at that point, everything would have been easier. 

Kiara would have flipped her hair and stood up and said: ' _I don't care if John B sees me here_ '

And JJ would have smiled, that typical, childish, cheeky JJ smile, and said: ' _Good. Because I don't either_ '

But they were Kie and JJ. So he looked down into her brown eyes, a wicked voice in his head yelling out that she regretted everything, that she regretted him, that she would never forgive him for having been the one to take something she had been probably saving for someone special — someone smarter, someone better and deserving of her, _anyone but him_. And she agreed with only a quick nod you could have missed if you blinked, thinking that the only reason why he had welcomed her into his arms last night had been because of how pained and sorrowful and lonely he felt, and she was nothing more to him than a girl who climbed off his bed as soon as she could only to never be seen or heard from again.

She thought about saying something, she really did. Usually, there would be no doubt that Kiara _would_ have something to say — but for the first time in forever, her voice felt flat and all she could mutter was a silent _bye_ as she climbed through the window, her yellow vans swinging from her hands by the shoelaces, and JJ cursed himself under his breath and hit his head against the hard wood door after the room had been left empty. 

* * *

Sarah decided to walk around the Chateau so she could give John B and JJ some privacy. She felt compelled to check out the hot tub that had apparently been a relevant prop to all this mess, but when she did, she was surprised to discover Kiara's car parked close by, only a few meters away from where they had just arrived. 

Obviously she had missed it's presence before, too focused on the huge hot tub in the yard and the possible pigpen they might find the Chateau to be, but now that John B and JJ were already speaking calmly and not too much damage seemed to have been done around, she could focus on nothing but. Had she seen any sight of Kie inside the house? Her tiny metal box always filled with teabags had been left on the kitchen counter, yes, but she wasn't on the porch or the yard, and she wasn't in the living room or John B's room, so where the hell could she possibly be?

Sarah walked a few more steps before bumping right into what might have been one of the weirdest views she ever came across in her life — and that's saying something, because she has lived in OBX for years and her brother was freaking Rafe Cameron. Kiara Carrera in the flesh, messy hair falling down her face, barefoot and dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt, attempting to silently climb out of a window from the Chateau.

— _Kie_? — Sarah called out, and Kiara's brown eyes widened. — What the hell are you doing?

Kiara came running towards her, her index finger against her pressed lips, asking Sarah to be quiet. 

— Why are you acting like a home invader? — she asked jokingly, but Kie didn't allow herself to even chuckle. — Wait, are you all right?

_No_ , Kie wanted to say. The last time she had cried over a boy she was twelve years old — his name was Oli Dickens, she thought he might have a crush on her, but after she beat him in an amateur surfing competition he apparently felt the need to shove her and kick a fair amount of sand on her face. She started crying even before the Pogues came running towards her, John B and JJ throwing punches at Oli Dickens and Pope grabbing handfuls of sand to spread on the boy's ugly mug. She continued crying after he apologized, and only stopped when JJ reached for her hand, pulled her up and said ' _Kie, don't ever cry over a guy. Especially one who's last name starts with Dick_ '. 

And she didn't. For the next four years, through a few flings and boring dates and annoying Kooks calling out for her when she walked around Figure 8, she never shed a tear. But last night she cried as JJ sobbed in her arms. And this morning she _feels_ like crying again, but she won't, she refuses to do so — even though her throat has a lump so big she cannot speak, and her eyes are burning and her heart is hurting, she can not, she will not.

— Oh, Kie — Sarah whispered, pulling the brown haired girl into a hug as she let a sob escape. — Is this about JJ?

— Do you think this is about JJ? — she questioned, still refusing to let go of her friend.

— Well, Kie, I think it's somehow always about JJ with you.

And she was right. When Rafe decided to pursue Kiara during her Kook year, she mercilessly cast him aside — and Sarah thought, _hey, it's Rafe, so I get it_. But then other guys would try speaking to her, ones that were actually nice considering they were Kooks, and she still would not give them the time of day. Sarah wondered why, of course, but only had the guts to ask one night at the beach when they were both shit faced with a bunch of other Kooks, and even though Kiara remembered nothing of that nature by the next morning, Sarah heard the words coming out of her friend's mouth perfectly. ' _I wouldn't want JJ to see me around with one of them, would I?_ ' 

When the girls had their infamous fall out, Sarah had simply assumed Kiara would go back to the Pogues and get together with JJ or something, so she was quite surprised when she found out not only had they not gotten together, Kiara had instituted some sort of _no Pogue on Pogue macking_ rule. Well, feelings could be complicated like that, and Sarah knew as much so herself. 

— I think I might have just broken a rule — admitted Kie, her face turning into a frown.

— Now, now — said Sarah, ending their hug but still keeping her hands resting affectionally on Kiara's shoulders. — Do you want to get in the car and talk about how much boys suck?

— Definitely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this!  
> Next chapter you guys will be getting some very juicy angst (and who knows, maybe some fluff) aye, so watch out for that! Will most definitely be posting it tomorrow.
> 
> xxx  
> Izzy


	3. Make Me

JJ felt like shit. His head was throbbing, his abdomen was aching, John B couldn't stop talking and Kie was mad at him. 

— You should've told me about your dad, J — JB repeated for the fifth time since JJ had opened the door of the room that used to belong to Big John. 

He knew everything his friend kept going on and on about came from a place of love and worry, but his mind couldn't focus on anything other than how Kiara had just literally climbed out of a window to avoid being caught in the room with him. The look in her eyes was the worst part, though — because he always loved her eyes the most, and seeing them flicker with gloom made him feel as if he had just been stabbed in the chest. She hated him, he could tell from the way she gathered her shoes quietly and left without daring to look back, and that made it only so much easier for him to hate himself as well.

— JJ, are you even paying attention? — John B asked.

_No._

— Yes — JJ lied, turning his back to JB so that he could grab a couple of beers from the fridge.

The first time JJ had a drink, he was seven — his first sip was long before that, but the first actual full drink was on his seventh birthday. It was a strange mix of vodka and something else — lemonade? soda? He wasn't too sure —, but his dad seemed to like it, so when he offered it to JJ as a birthday gift, he was quick to say _yes_ and _thank you_. And JJ didn't get it. It tasted bad, it made his head spin and his stomach hurt.

Beer was much more his style. Number one, it didn't rink of his father — his dad always smelled of pure alcohol, so much it would burn the insides of JJ's nostrils —, and number two, he actually prided himself in saying no to hard liquor when someone offered it to him at a party or a random parking lot. He felt in control — his dad wouldn't say no, so if he did, then that had to mean he was different, right? Beer was something he drank to have fun with his friends, at a kegger for liquid courage or on a fishing trip to get rid of the typical Outer Banks heat. 

It was also something he drank when he felt cornered. He would focus on the coldness in his hands when he didn't want to listen to what was being said, would stare at the icy water drops soaking the wooded table when he felt eyes on him for too long and would take a long sip whenever he wanted to be quiet. As easy as it gets.

— You could always just stay here, J — was the next thing to come out of JB's mouth that JJ actually heard and processed, forcing him to at last look at his friend in the eye. — We all call it your room anyway, it's yours. And Ward hired me back to work on the boat so I'll keep paying for the Chateau, you know. For when my dad gets back.

Through thick and thin, John B had always somehow managed to stay an optimist. If JJ believed Big John was alive after nearly 10 months lost at sea? Probably not. But did that mean he would ever let his friend know so? _Hell no_. John B was and had always been a saviour — he needed that, he needed to take care of something or someone, no matter what it took. 

And though John B would never admit it, that part of him was more definitely what made him so inclined to become friends with Pope and JJ in the first place. JJ, a couple of years before Pope, because they got into a stupid fight at school over a plastic toy truck and when the principal called their dads, Big John grounded JB for three days — which meant no surfing and no TV —, while Luke pushed JJ to the ground right by the school's main entrance. John B proceeded to walk over to the blonde duo and proclaim, looking at Luke chin up, that he was the one at fault for the fight and not JJ. From that moment on, they were best friends, and he made sure to include Pope in the group when he realised he was being bullied by some other kids from The Cut for being in the math club — and in The Cut, you weren't bullied if you only walked around with John B Routledge and JJ Maybank.

JJ, though, was big on not accepting any hand outs from his friends, and John B knew so when he made sure to add to his offer:

— I need someone to watch over for the place, yeah? While I'm not here. Otherwise, who knows who could end up breaking in looking to steal some shit.

The Chateau didn't have any _shit_ to be stolen, unless you considered Kie's somewhat fancy — read: worth over 10 dollars — metal box for teabags or a vintage magnifying glass in Big John's office that you could probably pawn for two days worth of groceries. But still, the offer seemed to be enough for JJ to not decline, only taking one other small sip of beer before saying:

— Yeah, I could do that, I guess.

JB felt a wave of relieve course through his veins, but made sure to keep a straight face, to seem as nonchalant as he possibly could be. 

— Cool, it's settled then.

And don't get it wrong, JJ did feel much more at ease knowing that he would have a place to stay, far away from his dad, for as long as he needed to, but not even that big of a favor from his best friend was enough to get his mind away from one Kiara Carrera. 

He could still smell her on his shirt and his chest — fresh and sweet, like bubblegum — and the simple remembrance of how swollen and cherry red colored her lips looked after he kissed her for hours, making it a point to only stop to smirk against her mouth and nip on her bottom lip, was nearly enough to send him running over to her, wherever she could be, to yell out that if she wanted him to act like it never happened he would, but _please, please Kie, don't hate me, don't leave_.

God, he sounded pathetic. When did he ever even think about falling down to his knees and begging a girl to stay? Never, that's when, or at least not seriously, not like he meant it. By the time he turner sixteen he had simply figured he'd be able to go through his entire life without having a person be able to make him whole again or to keep him empty with a simple smile, without having a person run their fingers through his hair as he cried and whisper softly in his ear that everything would be all right, a person who could make his entire day worth it and meaningful just by calling out his name or brushing their soft skin against his. He figured so because he knew the only one who could make that all happen was Kiara, and until that past night he never in a million years thought she might even consider being with him.

He was wrong, of course. Because at the same time he moped around in John B's kitchen, drinking beer after beer in hopes that at some point he would stop getting goosebumps every time he thought of Kie — which was at least once every few seconds —, Kiara had been driven back home by Sarah, her legs up in the car's dashboard as she could not blab about anyone other than JJ Maybank.

— You can not, in a million years, tell John B what I just told you — Kie warned Sarah as they walked into the Carrera household, throwing their purses down at the floor.

— Tell him what? Oh, that you screwed JJ, you mean? — Sarah said jokingly in a loud voice, aware Kiara's dad would be at The Wreck and her mom had gone out shopping with Rose. 

Kiara slapped her on the shoulder and Sarah let out a loud ' _ouch_!', as if it had hurt even a little bit.

— Kie, I'm obviously not telling John B, relax.

Truth be told, Sarah hadn't been at all surprised by the first part of Kiara's confession as they reached the girl's car — from their short period of time as good friends hanging around Figure 8 saving turtles and playing pool at the Cameron's, it seemed clear as day that Kie's feelings towards JJ were different from the ones she shared for Pope and John B. Her comments about the blonde boy mostly came out when she reached for her fourth bottle of beer, which was pretty much at least once every other weekend, and they would more often than not end up becoming babbles about his hair. Sarah thought it was cute, _kind of_. She didn't know the three Pogue boys at the time, and had to admit she did not understand how Kie could possibly favor a quarrelsome rascal with clear rage issues over a nice boy from Figure 8 — well, Sarah obviously would end up getting it over time, herself choosing John B over the picture perfect Topper. 

So, to be fair, even though JJ could be unpredictable and impulsive and hot blooded — more than any of the other boys from The Cut Sarah had met —, she understood Kie knew him the most, and definitely had seen a side of him he wouldn't display to just anyone, including Sarah herself, who was fresh meat in the close-knit little club they had going on. The thing she could not and would not understand, though, was how the hell those two could be so undeniably bad at communicating. 

Kiara liked JJ. Sarah knew so, because the brown haired girl had told her herself in 9th grade a couple of weeks before their fall out, right after Rafe made some dreadful comments about Kie's old group of friends right to her face — more specifically, JJ —, so she kicked him in the ankle, called him a little bitch and later told Sarah that ' _Cameron, I know he's your brother, but only over my dead body I'll let someone speak about JJ like that. I like him too much, I could never just let it go_ '.

And JJ liked Kiara. Sarah knew so because, well... she wasn't stupid. Maybe all of the Pogues had a thing for Kie at some point, but the way Sarah would sometimes catch JJ's eyes directed towards Kie as if she always was the most precious thing in the room, the sheer, sincere spark that would only make a presence in JJ's blue irises when Kiara smiled at him — even if only for a second —, oh, it was something else, and Sarah felt as if it could almost be her duty as newest honorary member of the Pogues to figure out the mess these two headstrong, stubborn fools had gotten themselves into.

— I have an idea — Sarah announced, resting her chin on her hands. — To get your mind off things.

— I don't want to get my mind off things — Kiara growled, trying to make sense of her messy hair. — I want to sleep all afternoon and then pretend like none of this ever happened.

— We're not sleeping all afternoon, silly. 

The cheeky smile on Sarah's face startled Kie, but not even she could deny her friend's offer when the next words to come out of her mouth were:

— We're getting shit-faced. Let's throw a kegger.

* * *

John B thought it was weird that Sarah suddenly just left the Chateau as he was talking to JJ inside — at least, she did write a note that she was ordering an Uber —, but he found it much weirder when later that afternoon, hopping into his room at the Cameron's, she asked behind the biggest smile she could give:

— You know where to get a keg, right?

He sat up in his bed and Sarah walked towards him. He had not seen her this excited since they found gold at the old lady's house. 

— Yes, I know where to get a keg — he said, prompting her to squeal like a little girl. — Why?

— Because we're throwing a kegger, obviously. Jesus Christ, John B, try and keep up, will you?

And someway, somehow, even though John B had hundreds of other things to worry about — including getting rid of the huge hot tub that stood in his yard and putting up an entire foolproof plan to take and sell the rest of the gold the group had found —, they would only a few hours later find themselves at the Boneyard with nothing but a keg and plastic bags filled to the top with red solo cups. 

Not that John B pressed Sarah too much over her true motives — he was pretty content with her just shrugging and saying ' _it'll be good for JJ to have some fun_ ' —, but even if he did, she would not have given in. She had messed up with Kiara once before and wasn't about to betray her trust once more, or ever again for that matter. Though, Sarah did tell Kie a small lie about JJ definitely not coming to the Boneyard that night, but she figured it was a good enough cause and Kiara was bound to forgive her once the plan worked out. 

— Sarah, you said he wasn't coming — Kiara snarled, grabbing her by the wrist away from John B.

JJ had just walked in with Pope, each carrying a six pack in their hands. Word about the keggers always seemed to spread fast in the OBX, and the Boneyard already had it's fair share of friends from The Cut, groups of Kooks and a bunch of clueless Tourons around, but apparently not enough to mask JJ's presence, at least not from Kiara. She could have spotted him from a mile away, told his blonde hair apart from a huddle of people if she had to — he always had this effect on her, ever since they were kids. Kiara always could tell when JJ walked into a room.

— Really? Because I remember saying I _thought_ he wasn't coming.

Kiara offered Sarah such an aggravated look it could probably set the whole Boneyard on fire. Doing her best to keep her cool, though, Sarah formed the most delightful smile she physically could and put the red plastic cup she held on her hand up in the air, right to Kie's face, offering:

— You should have a drink.

— You're damn right I should have a drink — she said in an angry mutter, downing all the beer left on the cup barely a second before JJ finally spotted her.

He didn't plan on coming at first. But, hey, what else was JJ supposed to do on a Thursday night? Drink the same amount of beer he'd be drinking at the kegger, except alone at the Chateau? _Yeah, no, thank you_. Besides, Pope had been all up in his business all afternoon, going over and over about all the mess they would have to clean up by the end of the week — at least at the Boneyard his friend would only take a few minutes to find a cute Touron girl to try and talk to about dead bodies and med school. 

It seemed like a good plan when he suggested it to Pope — _Sarah and John B are throwing a kegger, let's just relax and act normal for a night, then we can figure it all out tomorrow._ How he didn't think of bringing Kiara into the equation, he wasn't sure. Perhaps he had already smoked too much weed by late afternoon and his mind was foggier than usual, or maybe part of him was sure she was probably so regretful of what had taken place the past night that she would do her best to avoid him for a while. Truly, he could not tell whether he felt happy to see her because that meant she might not be avoiding him after all, or pained because whatever she chose to do or say to him could easily make or break him — and the always present voice in his head he hated so much seemed to think she would go for _break_.

He thought she looked beautiful. And even though he did think that every day for the past God knows how many years they've known each other, there was something different about tonight, as if now that he knew how it felt to have her gentle hands caressing the bruises on his abdomen and to have her hair brush against his cheek when she pulled him into a close embrace all throughout the night whenever he tried even the slightest of movements, every single thing about her he ever found gorgeous was only more eminent.

When their eyes met, even though JJ wanted to sprint over to her with a smile on his face and say ' _no one has ever looked as good as you do right this second_ ' and Kiara wanted to run her fingers through his hair and ask ' _are you all right? have you eaten at all? does your abdomen hurt?_ ', all they did was grab another beer and feel the cold beverage fall down their already lumpy throats, filled with way too many stuck, unsaid words. And they continued to do so, again and again, every time their eyes met or their name was mentioned by someone else or they dared think of each other, another big sip of beer was gulped until a tipsy JJ got his arms around a tall girl with blonde hair and Kie looked as if she was about to cry.

Sarah, who up until that pointed had watched the whole ordeal quietly from afar, knew it was about time she intervened. She had earlier expected that only by putting the two in the same place with some liquid courage involved, it would be enough for them to figure their miscommunication out by themselves, but clearly she had underestimated how stubborn the duo could truly be.

Kie had been talking to a random group of Kooks about the core differences between a sagittarius and a capricorn, but whenever her gaze shifted away from the boys with polo shirts and khakis towards the spot by the water where JJ kept sharing his drink with a blonde Touron, her voice would crack and she would stutter for a second before managing to pull herself together. _Don't look at him, don't look at him_ , she would think to herself at least a dozen times, but always giving in at the end only to feel her skin burn at the sight of JJ and the girl he would probably, by the end of the night, bring over to the same room Kie had been at just this morning. Kie was hurt, and Sarah had had enough.

As he walked further away from the keg with the Touron by his side, far away enough so that Kiara would have to actually get up from her seat and look around to be able to spot him — which she would not do, because, _principles_ — Sarah didn't hesitate to follow the same path. She was angry. She stepped hard as she walked, throwing sand around everywhere, and screamed JJ's name so loudly that he only took a second to turn around even though the music was loud, louder than the sound of the waves crashing, and there was a group of people close by yelling ' _chug! chug! chug_!'. 

— Are you naturally this much of a fool or do you just have to try really hard to reach this level of idiocy? — Sarah yelled out, and JJ was instantly surprised by her tone.

— Dude, what are you on about? — JJ questioned, the expression on his face as confused as it gets. — Is this about the hot tub? Because I'm fixing that.

The Touron girl had her green eyes travel from Sarah to JJ repeatedly, as if watching a tennis match, unsure what to do in the awkward situation.

— You know what you should try fixing, JJ? — Sarah asked through her trademark ironic smirk. — The absolute mess you made of the thing with Kiara _for no reason_. 

He widened his blue eyes in shock, wondering if Kie had told Sarah about them. If she had indeed felt regretful and embarrassed about the whole occurrence as JJ suspected, why would she have told Sarah Cameron, of all people? _Unless_...

— I'll make it very clear for you, all right? — she continued before he even had a chance to recover from the impact of everything the blonde girl kept throwing at him. — You like Kie, and Kie likes you, so stop being a baby about it and go to talk to her, got it?

As time seemed to stretch out and JJ realised it wasn't a rhetorical question and Sarah was indeed waiting for his answer, he made sure to swing his head up and down in a positive nod, prompting Sarah to yell out an overly cheerful ' _great!_ ', before turning her back and walking away. And JJ, not even a full minute after that, whispered a quick ' _I'm sorry, I gotta go_ ' to the Touron standing next to him, sprinting towards the spot where he had last seen Kiara.

* * *

The kegger was not helping Kie feel better — much on the contrary, every minute that went by she only felt worse, so at a certain point she simply decided to say bye to Pope and John B and walk away from the Boneyard. She held up her phone with no signal to use it as a flashlight, helping her drunk self not to trip and fall on one of the many branches and twigs that had been left around the sand after Agatha, and it also happened to be that same light spot escaping from Kiara's right hand the thing that helped JJ spot her, already somewhat far away from the keg.

He yelled out her name once, and twice, and again and again as he got closer to her, but she did not look back. She looked entirely too focused on the path ahead, but was quick to yell out once JJ reached her and touched her shoulder:

— What do you want, JJ? — Kie didn't stop walking, and so he followed her as she kept on. — Shouldn't you be talking that Touron girl back to John B's?

Truth be told, JJ never planned on having anything happen with the blonde girl who's name he was pretty sure was Amanda, but might as well be Emma. Did he start talking to her as a way to try and focus on something other than Kie and the way her brown hair cascaded down her bare back? _Yes_. But was he successful? _Absolutely not_. He hadn't heard or processed one single word that came out of Amanda's or Emma's mouth that night, and he did not want to either.

— I don't want to take her anywhere, I just want to talk to you.

_Oh_. Kiara was surprised by his affirmation, and though she didn't let it show on her face, she did slow down her pace, as if silently welcoming him to walk beside her. 

— Talk about what? — she provoked, securing a strand of wavy hair behind her ear. — About how we slept together and then you were so disturbed by the thought of our friend finding out that you literally told me to climb out of a window? Or about how after that you come to this kegger, don't even say _hi_ to me and then proceed to spend the rest of the time talking up shark bait? 

And that was the moment when JJ realised he had been really, _really_ dumb. 

— Ok, Kie, first of all — he began, walking just a beat faster than her so that she would be forced to face him. — I _suggested_ you _could_ climb out of the window if you _wanted_ , because I figured, y'know, that you might be embarrassed to be caught in my bed by John B like that. I figured maybe you regretted it and wouldn't want him to know.

JJ let a five second pause take place, hoping Kiara would perhaps fill the silence with the assuredness he so much craved that it wasn't regret what he saw in her eyes that morning, that he was wrong and that they would be fine. But when she didn't open her mouth to speak and didn't gaze off from the path in front of her, he continued:

— And second of all, the only reason why I didn't go talk to you tonight when I saw you by the keg was because I... I... — he stuttered, suddenly regretting not having planned exactly what he wanted to say before he ran towards her. — Because, Kie, I don't know if I can handle you looking me in the eye and telling me you wish what happened between us never happened. Because I can't erase it, I can't go back in time, and I know you probably wanted your first time to be with someone who's not a complete worthless piece of shit and I feel like an asshole for taking that away from you, all right?

At this point tears threatened to escape not only JJ's blue eyes, but Kiara's as well, as she felt her heart shatter after hearing all the awful things the boy thought about himself. She finally stopped in her tracks and put the phone down, allowing their encounter to be lit up by nothing more than the moon shine coming from above. 

— Don't you ever say that about yourself again JJ, do you hear me? — Kiara yelled out, surprising even herself with the anger present in her voice. She was angry at Luke Maybank and JJ's mom and random Kooks who made JJ consider these awful statements about him to be true, and she was also angry at JJ for believing it. — You are _not_ worthless and you are _not_ a piece of shit. I can tell you that as many times as you want me to, whenever you need to hear it, but don't you ever say that about yourself again, I won't let you.

All throughout her Kook year and after that, whenever Rafe or Topper or whichever Kook's turn it was to get on her nerves said something nasty about JJ, she would not let it go, she would talk back and curse and pinch and kick. Kiara had never left and would never let any Kook talk crap about JJ Maybank — and she would be damned if she let him talk crap about himself. 

JJ always loved the way Kie could talk nonstop about turtles and the environment and star signs and whatever else she was passionate about — which were many things, because Kiara Carrera was one passionate individual, all right —, but he definitely did not feel as comfortable when the subject of her blabbering of points and facts and truths became no one other than _him._ Even though she seemed to be listing all the things about him, at the top of her head, that made him matter and made him worth it and made him good, the way she looked up at him through her long lashes and pouted her lips as she kept going on and on prevented JJ from being able to actually digest whatever it was that was being said. 

— Jesus Kie, will you give it a rest? — he yelled out, defeated by the unbelievable amount of words that could escape from her glossy lips, not knowing what to do or how to react to the way she seemed to think so highly of him. He had never had someone defend him this way, especially to his own self, and therefore had no idea how to respond.

Kiara did stop speaking for a second, but only for a second, crossing her arms against her chest.

— Are you telling me to be quiet? — she asked, pretending to be offended but truly somewhat amused by his uncomfortable reaction to her compliments. —Well, if you want me to shut up then _make me_. 

And with her taunt JJ finally did what he had been longing to do since the first moment he laid eyes on her by the keg — he leaned towards her and reached for her face so that he could feel her soft skin against his hands when he crashed his lips against hers, desperately and hopefully. And expecting her to push him away or slap him across the face, he was mesmerized when the only thing Kiara did was pull him closer in a warm embrace and press her lips against his even harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Sorry I didn't end up posting this chapter yesterday, I had it all done early in the day but accidentally deleted it so I had to rewrite the whole thing which took a while lol hope you enjoyed it and thank you so much for reading!! 
> 
> I'm thinking some fluff for next chapter, aye? I have a lot of cool plans for this story so stay tuned ❤️


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